


Five Times Kurt Doesn't Let Blaine Propose... and One Time it Goes a Little Differently

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Kurt stops Blaine before he can propose to him. Plus something else.</p><p>Starts just after 4x22 and spins out through the future, no spoilers beyond aired episodes, not even speculation. I’m sure this isn’t what will be happening</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Kurt Doesn't Let Blaine Propose... and One Time it Goes a Little Differently

1\. _Spring_

Their friends are still cheering Mr. Schuester’s and Miss Pillsbury’s wedding in the choir room, hugging each other in excited groups, when Blaine takes a breath and turns toward Kurt beside him. It’s time.

“Kurt,” he says.

Kurt wipes a tear from his eye and resumes clapping for the happy couple.

“ _Kurt_ ,” Blaine says a little more loudly.

His eyebrows lifting but his smile still easy, Kurt turns and says, “Hmm?”

“I, um - “ Blaine turns the ring box over in his hand by his side and looks around the room. This is it. He can do this. “I have something very important to ask you, and it seems like the right time to do it here, surrounded by all of our friends, the people who brought us together, the people who know how much we’ve loved each other, the people who want us both to be happy, and I - “ He clears his throat and ducks his head a little, trying to get control of his pounding heart.

“Blaine - “

“No, wait, I have this all planned out,” Blaine insists, and he tries to remember where he was in his speech. Oh, right. “We’re surrounded by so many of the people who love us, who have supported us all along, and it only makes sense for them to be here and see this moment, too.”

“Blaine,” Kurt says with a shake of his head and a little step backwards, like he can’t believe what’s happening. The buzz around them is stilling, all of their friends witnessing this important moment, the first step in their new life together.

To Blaine’s surprise, Kurt’s smile is dropping from his face, his eyes flicking around the room instead of staying on Blaine where Blaine wants them. They stop for a second when they fall on Sam behind Blaine and then widen to almost comical proportions when Blaine begins to kneel.

“I love you, Kurt, and I know I’ve hurt you, but I don’t know how to prove I’m sorry better than - “

Kurt grabs his elbow and pulls him back upright even before Blaine gets to the ground. “What are you doing?”

“I’m propo- “

“This is not happening,” Kurt says before Blaine can even reply. He tugs him toward the door, and Blaine trips after him on confused feet.

“Uh?” Blaine looks over his shoulder at the spot he was supposed to be kneeling on as Kurt drags him out of the room entirely.

Kurt doesn’t stop until he’s pulled them down the hall and into the astronomy classroom, shutting the door behind them. His face is pale apart from a few spots of color high on his cheeks, and his eyes are sharp on Blaine’s. “Blaine Anderson, tell me I just got that all wrong. Tell me I just made a fool of myself assuming something that wasn’t actually happening. Tell me I didn’t just pull you out of Mr. Schue’s wedding because you were going to _propose_ to me.”

“I’m not exactly sure why you pulled me out of Mr. Schue’s wedding,” Blaine admits. There was no need for them to leave; he hadn’t even finished his speech.

Kurt raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms over his chest. “But the proposal?” he asks pointedly.

His heart falling, because this isn’t going anything like he’d planned, Blaine swallows back the suddenly huge lump in his throat and holds up the closed, velvet-covered box in reply.

There’s a moment of utter stillness between them as Blaine stares at Kurt and Kurt stares at the box on Blaine’s outstretched palm, the clock on the wall ticking away second after second.

Without warning, Kurt closes his eyes and pivots away for a few of those seconds, not completely but enough that he’s giving Blaine his profile and a clear view of just how tightly his hands are curled around his own arms, and then he inhales sharply and turns back. His jaw is set, like this is hurting him, and it digs at Blaine’s heart to see that; this was supposed to be a _happy_ moment. “And you thought I would say _yes_?” Kurt asks tightly.

Blaine closes his fist, drops his hand, and says, “I love you.”

“I know,” is Kurt’s measured reply. He’s giving so little away, and Blaine doesn’t know how to read him other than he’s not swooning. Blaine had really been hoping for swooning. “I know, but Blaine, we aren’t _together_.” His eyes are sharp on Blaine’s, confused and almost pleading.

“I know,” Blaine agrees with a nod. “That’s the point, Kurt. We’re not together, but we love each other, and we should be.”

“And you thought interrupting - “

“What I thought,” Blaine says more firmly, straightening up, because at _some_ point today he needs to get his point across without being interrupted, “is that I wanted to prove to you just how serious I am about you. I wanted to get rid of any doubts you might have about me and where my heart is. I know I hurt you and lost your trust, and I feel like I’ve been regaining that. I’ve wanted that so badly.” His voice cracks a little, but that’s okay. It’s time to put all of his cards out on the table. There’s no other choice. “But I wanted you to be sure of my heart, of how I feel, of just how utterly dedicated I am to you, Kurt. I _love_ you. You’re my soul mate. I want you to know that. I want you to see it. I want you to look at me and _know_ I’m always going to be by your side, always going to be here to hold your hand, always going to sing with you and kiss you and argue over flavors of potato chips and run my fingers through your hair when you have a headache. I want you to know that.

“And I thought the best way to prove it to you was to _show_ you. To be as clear as I possibly can be about how dedicated I am to you. Because words are cheap, Kurt, and nothing between us is cheap. ” Blaine feels that truth deep into his chest, like it’s etched into the walls of his heart or the spirals of his DNA. It makes his voice harder than he intends, but he can’t help it. He wants Kurt to understand. “ _Nothing_.”

Kurt’s chest is rising in quick, shallow breaths, and his face is open but almost impossible to read. He’s beautiful but untouchable in whatever emotions he is feeling. All Blaine can do is stand there and hope his words were enough.

After a moment Kurt says in a faint, dazed voice, “I still don’t know what your problem is with salt and vinegar chips. They’re delicious.”

Blaine can’t really smile, but he does feel his heart lift a little that Kurt hasn’t just turned and walked out of the room, leaving everything Blaine just said on the floor between them. “And I’ll happily put in my vows that you can have all of mine.”

Kurt stares at him for another minute - just stands there and _stares_ like he doesn’t know what happened and maybe even who Blaine is - before he inhales slowly, rubs his arms, and quite clearly pulls himself together. “Blaine, this is crazy.“

“You love me,” Blaine reminds him. He wants to reach out and touch him. He wants to take a step forward and get closer. But he doesn’t want to break the moment, it’s too fragile, too much hangs on what happens next, so he stays where he is.

“We aren’t _together_ ,” Kurt says. “You have to see this is insane.”

“Why is it insane?” Blaine asks, throwing out his hands to the sides, because it _isn’t_. “I love you, and you love me. I know you do. You’ve _told_ me you still do. I want to spend my life with you, Kurt, and it’s not like we haven’t talked about this before. We had plans. Plans for our whole life, for where we’d live and what we’d do and the colors for our wedding and our vow renewal and our twenty-fifth anniversary party. We might have gotten a little... lost on the way there, but we can still get there. We have it all planned out.”

Kurt looks down and rubs his arms again, his long fingers pale against the dark sleeves of his jacket. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned this year it’s that you can make all of the plans you want and them not come true.”

“But we can make this one come true,” Blaine says. He pleads, really. He’s not above it, if that’s what it takes. He’d do anything to get Kurt back. “That’s why I’m here. I want to show you, to _promise_ you we’re going to have all that.”

“It’s not that simple,” Kurt tells the dingy linoleum floor.

“I don’t know why it isn’t.”

His shoulders squaring, Kurt lifts his head and snaps back, “Because we _broke up_. Because you _cheated on me_.”

“I made a _mistake_ ,” Blaine says, his voice also rising, “and I’m trying to fix it.”

“You can’t just - “ Kurt makes a vague, frustrated gesture in the air. “ _fix_ it. It doesn’t work that way.”

“I know I can’t make it go away no matter how much I wish I could, but I can make _amends_.

Kurt’s face tightens even further. “We can’t go back to what we were, Blaine. We were kids. We were... we were swept up in the ideas of romance and forever and didn’t have any idea about what that really meant.”

That hurts like an arrow directly to the chest, but Blaine can’t let it stop him. He knows Kurt’s right, even though it all felt so mature at the time. “So let’s do it right this time. Let’s do it like adults.” He takes that step forward, right up in front of Kurt, and looks him straight in the eye, as serious as he’s ever been. “That’s what I’m trying to do. That’s why I have this ring in my hand. Let’s do this like adults, Kurt.”

Kurt keeps him back with a hand on his chest, though his breath catches at the contact. “Blaine...” he says softly, the stoney resolve of his expression fading away into something far more complicated. It’s not the utter adoration Blaine wants, but he’ll take the measured focus on him if it means Kurt is _seeing_ him, seeing what he’s offering, seeing how serious he is.

“Please, Kurt,” Blaine asks, just as quietly.

Kurt looks into his eyes for what feels like forever before drawing in a breath. “I’m not going to agree to marry you,” he says, though he sounds sad about it, and for some reason that gives Blaine hope. If Kurt’s sad, that means that a part of him _wants_ to agree.

“Why not?” Blaine asks.

“For one, because I’m not taking away from Mr. Schue’s day, that’s seriously tacky, and the astronomy classroom is hardly romantic.” Kurt rolls his eyes in distaste, but he doesn’t look away from Blaine’s face.

“You’re the one who pulled me out of the choir room,” Blaine reminds him, his heart beginning to pound.

“But also because if we’re going to be adults, then we need to act like it. We broke up, Blaine,” Kurt says, his voice soft and his eyes gentle on Blaine’s. “I’ve been seeing Adam, you’ve been swooning over Sam and I don’t know who else, we don’t even live in the same state, and all of the problems that broke us up are still there. The answer to all of that isn’t getting engaged.”

“I only want to swoon over you,” Blaine promises, a little panicked that Kurt might doubt his heart. “Really. It’s been - I just - “

Kurt’s eyes go even softer and more reassuring. “It’s okay.” He sounds like he means it. He looks like he means it. And Blaine doesn’t know how anything but them being together is okay, but he finds he believes him, anyway.

“I _miss_ you, Kurt,” Blaine sighs out, because he does. He really, really does. He loves that they’re friends again, but it isn’t anywhere near enough for him. He wants it all. He wants Kurt to want it all with him.

“I know.” Kurt’s fingertips slide down the front of Blaine’s shirt, not quite a caress before he draws back. He tips his head to the side and says with that same melancholy air, “I miss you, too.”

“And I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Kurt admits helplessly, his face crumpling a little more.

“So what does that mean for us?” Blaine asks, barely above a whisper, because if Kurt loves him but won’t marry him, doesn’t want everything they’ve promised each other over the years, then Blaine doesn’t know where they stand at all. Blaine will always be his friend, but that doesn’t mean he won’t die of a broken heart.

“It means that in a minute we are going to go back and rejoin our friends and try not to disrupt Mr. Schue’s happy day any more than we already have,” Kurt says and makes the bottom drop out of Blaine’s stomach.

“But - “

“And then tomorrow, before I go back to New York, because we do love each other, I think I should take you out for a coffee,” Kurt tells him, his chin up and his eyes bright. “If you’d like to go out with me.” There’s a subtle stress on ‘go out’.

It feels for a second like Blaine’s heart has stopped in his chest. He doesn’t understand. The proposal isn’t happening, but is this - ? “Kurt - “

Kurt waits for him, patient, calm, just stands there looking elegant and so handsome and waits for Blaine’s answer. His eyebrows raise.

Oh, Blaine needs to _answer_.

“Yes. _Yes_. Of course I’ll go out with you,” Blaine blurts out in a jumble of words he hopes make sense.

“And no engagement ring hidden in the biscotti,” Kurt says.

“No,” Blaine agrees, shaking his head. He’d agree to anything if it means they can be together. “I won’t. I just want us to be _us_ again.”

“I want us to be smart this time,” Kurt tells him softly, and his voice cracks a little like his courage is threatening to fail him, though Blaine know that’s not actually possible. It’s never happened before.

“Anything you want,” Blaine promises. His heart still feels like it’s going to burst, but this time it’s in hope, because this isn’t just coffee. This is _them_.

“It’s about what _we_ want, right?” Kurt asks, still watching him. “Both of us. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it like adults. Isn’t that what you said?”

Blaine nods quickly, and then he can’t hold back anymore. He reaches for Kurt’s hand, and Kurt reaches back before pulling away with a laugh. Blaine fumbles the ring box he’d forgotten he was still holding back into his pocket and grabs Kurt’s hand, leans in, and kisses him.

Kurt makes a choked-off sound, either startled or overwhelmed, but he cups Blaine’s face with his free hand and kisses him back. It’s tender and familiar and full of promise, not of immediate passion but of hearts and tenderness and everything Blaine has so desperately missed. It makes Blaine’s blood surge hot and his eyes water with gratitude, because this isn’t a flirtation, this isn’t the backseat of a car or a fling in a hotel room. This is _them_ again. This is them, something new and everything that Blaine has missed all at once.

He wants to sink into it, to reach for as much as he can get, but instead he clings to Kurt’s hand and pulls back from the kiss when Kurt does.

Kurt watches him for a second with those beautiful eyes of his, bites his lower lip, and then suddenly, amazingly smiles about as wide as Blaine has ever seen. “I can’t believe you were going to _propose_ to me,” he says with a squeeze to Blaine’s hand. His voice is light, breathless, and full of joy.

“I can’t believe you won’t let me,” Blaine says. He still wants to. He’s desperate to, to know that Kurt will be his forever, to have that promise in return, because right now all Kurt has officially offered is a coffee date and the unspecified hopes in that kiss.

Kurt shakes his head, but he’s still smiling at him in a way that makes Blaine’s heart flip in his chest. “I don’t want to say no to you. I don’t want to have to say no to you anymore.”

“You could just say yes,” Blaine says, smiling back.

“Not today,” Kurt replies, not looking away.

“But another day?” Blaine asks, hope rising so fast he feels like he might float up onto his toes.

Kurt gives him a look, warmer and more open than Blaine has seen from him in so long, and says, “Let’s see how things go.”

 

2\. _Fall_

“Wow,” Blaine says, awed by the city stretched out around him as he steps up to the edge of the viewing platform. It’s a clear night, and New York is a carpet of concrete, glass, and shimmering lights before him. It’s spectacular. It’s gorgeous. It’s _enormous_. He has to look away for a second, just to catch his breath and stop the swooping feeling in his stomach that isn’t quite vertigo.

“I know,” Kurt says as he steps up beside him, his hands in his pockets and a dreamy smile on his face.

As beautiful as Kurt is, Blaine’s eyes are drawn right back to the city. It’s huge, filled with more cars than he can count and so many millions of people. From up here, the cars look tiny, the bright windows on all of the buildings almost a blur, and the river beyond just a brief break in the lights of civilization beyond.

He’s been living in New York a few days now, and even if the apartment and his neighborhood are beginning to feel familiar it’s impossible here not to realize just how _little_ of the city the part he knows is. It is so _big_.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Kurt asks, his hand slipping into Blaine’s.

Blaine holds onto him a little more tightly than he probably should and steps in a bit closer. It has nothing to do with the family pushing in beside him and squeezing him against the rail, or maybe it does. There are so many people here. So many dreams. So many lives being lived in the shadows of these buildings. He’s just one person among so many people who won’t care about him, won’t ever know him, and somehow he has to make his mark, anyway. It’s more daunting than he could have imagined. At least he isn’t doing it alone.

“No wonder so many movies have scenes set up here,” Kurt continues. “ _An Affair to Remember_ , _Sleepless in Seattle_...”

“ _King Kong_ ,” Blaine adds, thinking of how small Fay Wray looked in Kong’s clutches, as small in comparison as he feels and just as helpless.

“ _King Kong_ is hardly romantic, Blaine.”

Blaine shrugs, his eyes caught on the stream of cars’ headlights below. “I don’t know. I always thought Kong’s feelings about Ann Darrow came from a good place.”

“She did dress well.” Kurt squeezes his hand. “Are you okay? Are you scared of heights?”

Blaine drags his attention back to Kurt, handsome, smart, loving, wonderful Kurt, the love of his life, the man of his dreams, the person he always wants by his side, especially in the endless stream of unknown faces in this city. “Not of heights,” he says. It’s the thought of losing Kurt, of having to do all of this alone, which was horrible enough of an idea in Lima but is unthinkable now that he’s in New York, which is so big Blaine has no idea where to begin.

“Good,” Kurt says, leaning into him and pressing their shoulders together. “Because I wanted to bring you here to see where we live now before classes start tomorrow and we never have time to do anything fun again. This is our home.” He gestures out at the city all around them. “We’re in New York!”

“Together,” Blaine says, summoning up a weak but absolutely genuine smile.

Kurt smiles back at him much more warmly, that same happy smile Blaine’s always thrilled to put on his face. “Together,” he echoes. “The same city again, the same school.”

“The same apartment,” Blaine adds. “The same bed.” His grin grows; he still can’t believe he gets to _live_ with Kurt, be with him every morning and every night and sometimes even during the day when their schedules mesh. It doesn’t feel real. It feels _amazing_ , but it doesn’t feel real yet. He can’t wait until it does.

Kurt shoots him a knowing look. “As long as you learn how to stop hogging the covers. Don’t make me sorry I agreed to let you move in.”

“ _You_ asked _me_ ,” Blaine says, and it’s still a point of pride. He didn’t push for it; Kurt had asked him, had just asked him over dinner one night if he wanted to move in with him instead of into the NYADA dorms on his own, and Blaine is still holding happily on to that bit of proof that Kurt is happy with everything they are again. “And maybe I just want you to sleep closer to me.” As close as possible, wrapped up in his arms, every night, forever.

Laughing, Kurt nudges him again and looks back out over the city. Blaine takes a moment to enjoy the perfection of his profile and the sweep of his scarf at his throat before looking over the edge once more.

If anything, it all looks even bigger than it did a minute ago. More cars, more people, more buildings, more of everything, all around them. All around him. It’s like New York is ever-expanding like the universe, and he’s just one person in it. Not special, not known, just one more person.

The smile falls from his face, and he holds onto Kurt’s hand that much more tightly. Kurt’s always had a strong hold, his fingers firm and sure in Blaine’s, and it’s even more comforting than usual to feel his answering press.

“I’m really glad I’m here with you,” Blaine says softly. It’s so much less overwhelming to get to experience everything with him instead of being alone and adrift in the tide of endless humanity below, not knowing where he’d come to shore if he ever did, if he’d find his way through the streets and NYADA and classes and a career and his own heart or if he’d just get lost for good.

“I knew you’d like it,” Kurt replies, leaning up on his toes for a second to see that much more.

“I hope I will,” Blaine murmurs. Right now, it’s all so foreign, even the detergent that Kurt uses on the sheets a smell that he’s not used to. It’s all different. The only constant is Kurt. Rachel, too, he supposes, and some of their other friends from Ohio, but Kurt’s the biggest one, the most important, the one Blaine needs the most.

“Ugh.” Kurt puts a hand up to his hair - still perfect - as a breeze buffets them. His scarf flutters into Blaine’s face, and Kurt quickly smooths it back down. “They don’t mention in the movies how windy it is up here. I know it’s one of the top proposal spots in the city, but I’d be worried about the ring blowing away. Or the potential bride.”

The woman next to Blaine bumps into him and offers him an apology, but Blaine is rooted to the spot and doesn’t reply. He can’t.

Instead he’s caught up in the idea of how easy it would be to sink to one knee right here and ask Kurt to marry him, to beg for him to be his safe haven in this crazy city, to be the one thing Blaine can hold onto forever in a new place and a new school with new people to win over and an uncertain future spreading out forever in front of him like the city in front of this building.

It would be so much easier to face if he _knew_ Kurt was his, not just now - because he knows Kurt is his for now - but forever. He wants Kurt to promise him forever the way he used to, he wants it to be official, so he knows no matter how this city feels about him he’ll have Kurt with him through it all, proving he’s special. They’ll have each other.

And wouldn’t it be romantic to do it here on top of the Empire State Building the first week he’s here? Wouldn’t that be a big statement, the start of this new life in New York? Wouldn’t it be smart to start off being grown ups by making that kind of big pronouncement to the world and each other, that no matter what comes at them they will do it _together_?

Blaine looks over at Kurt’s beautiful eyes and hopes for a sign, some sign that Kurt would like to be asked. They haven’t been together that long, not this time, but the past few months have been like a dream after living the nightmare of being apart last year. It’s been going so well. And now they’re living together. It means something. “It’s still romantic, though,” he tries.

“Maybe when it’s less windy,” Kurt says, glancing around with a judgmental shrug.

“We can come back.” They can make plans, watch the weather and pick a night. Blaine could have some of their friends meet them there, surprise Kurt with flowers and a song and -

Kurt turns back and gives him a long, measuring look, like he sees everything in Blaine’s heart, all of his insecurities and all of his love with those sharp eyes of his. He stands there and watches him as Blaine is battered by internal tempests of worries far stronger than the buffeting winds, and then asks gently, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Blaine says, though he’s pretty sure his face is saying something different. He decides he should just be honest. “I may be freaking out a little.”

“And it’s not the heights,” Kurt says, not a question.

Blaine shakes his head. “No. It’s the city. And you. Being up here is giving me a different perspective, and then you said proposal and I just...”

“And you’re thinking of doing something you shouldn’t because you’re freaking out.”

“It’s something I shouldn’t?” Blaine asks, because he wants to, he really wants to, not just now but every day, every minute, he wants to, _so_ much...

Kurt smiles, a little sadly, a little fondly, and then pulls him by the hand toward the elevators.

“Come on, Blaine,” he says, not without kindness but definitely a no to Blaine asking the question he most wants to to get rid of all of the butterflies in his stomach and heart. “Let’s get your feet back on the ground.”

 

3\. _Spring_

“You were amazing,” Blaine says, offering Kurt the bouquet of flowers he’s been holding all night and sweeping him up into a hug. Kurt's still warm from the stage lights and vibrating with energy from his performance, and he hugs Blaine back tightly. “Kurt, you were _amazing_.”

Before he draws away, Kurt presses his mouth to Blaine’s, his smile too wide to call it a proper kiss but close enough. “Thank you,” he says, beaming at the crowd around them in the NYADA theater.

“Kurt!” Rachel all but jumps into his arms, not quite crushing the flowers, but it’s a close call. Blaine reaches out and takes the flowers back, accepting Kurt’s grateful nod as well. “We were so good!”

"We were," he agrees, beaming at her as well as he wraps his arms around her.

"I told you we would be," she says. "I told you that Hannah was totally wrong for the part and we were lucky to lose her."

"She had to take a semester off because she caught walking pneumonia," Kurt reminds her, stepping back and checking the comet brooch on the lapel of his tailored waistcoat.

Rachel smooths down her hair and says with only a tiny bit of obvious remorse, "I meant lucky for _us_."

"Of course you did."

"Well, you were both great," Blaine says before they get too distracted. He takes the single white rose he'd brought - because he loves her and also because he’s learned by now to come prepared or be faced with ill-disguised pouting - and presents it to her.

"Oh, _thank_ you, Blaine." Rachel holds it up to her nose and gives it a happy sniff. "I can always count on you to be thoughtful."

Blaine smiles to himself as Kurt accepts a hug from one of his castmates; he feels almost as ebullient from the night as the performers seem to be. He's always excited by music and theater, but getting to sit and watch Kurt do what he does best, getting to have an excuse to stare at him for over an hour without anyone - including Kurt - thinking he's weird... well, it's been a great night. Kurt is _so_ talented, and so handsome, and so incredible, and Blaine wonders if he will be able to get Kurt to leave the cast party earlier than Rachel so they can have the apartment to themselves for a little while and Blaine can show him just how special he is.

"I couldn't take my eyes off of you," Blaine murmurs in Kurt's ear when he turns back to them. "The whole night, even when you weren't singing."

Kurt's eyes are filled with warmth and a sparkling elation, and he reaches for Blaine's hand again.

"Rachel, you were marvelous," comes a voice from behind Blaine. He looks over his shoulder to find that it's Stuart, one of Kurt's TAs this semester and the director of this performance. After the night where some after-class tutoring led into a dinner invitation Kurt had declined, Blaine hasn't had a great feeling about Stuart. He trusts Kurt, but Stuart is a whole other much less reliable and much more slimy matter.

"Thank you," Rachel says as Stuart kisses her hand. She flutters her eyelashes, actually flutters them, and Blaine has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"And Kurt," Stuart says with an even wider smile. "I have been wracking my brain, and I just can't come up with a word that encapsulates how impressive your performance was."

"Thank you," Kurt replies. He accepts the praise with more grace than Blaine would in his shoes - more, really, than Blaine would like him to, even though he knows Kurt's right to be polite and it's wise not to burn bridges - and then raises their joined hands, just a little. "You remember my boyfriend, Blaine."

Stuart looks at their hands, passes his gaze over Blaine's face without actually connecting with his eyes, and says, "Right. The boyfriend." He says the word like it's not something important, like they're in seventh grade passing notes to each other in Social Studies instead of being in a long-term, exclusive, committed relationship where they live together, like it's something childish instead of permanent. "Kurt, I heard the Dean saying he especially wanted to talk to you. Come with me."

“He caught me on my way over to you,” Rachel announces.

“I’ll be right back.” Kurt squeezes Blaine's hand before letting go to follow Stuart across the room.

"I really hate him," Blaine tells Rachel, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall, his eyes on Kurt's beautiful back.

"I know, but he is a gifted director, and he has a very good eye for talent," she replies. She twirls the rose between her fingers. "I mean, he cast us both, and we're only sophomores."

"He hit on Kurt."

Rachel puts her hand on his arm. "Blaine, Kurt is very attractive, if not muscular enough for my personal taste. People are going to hit on him.”

“I’m aware of that, Rachel,” Blaine grits out. “And he has amazing muscles.”

She laughs softly and pats his arm. “He's with you. He's chosen _you_."

"I know," Blaine says and barely even wonders why anymore. "But the way that guy says _boyfriend_... It's like I'm a passing thing for him to wait to be over so he’ll have his chance." It’s so stupid, because he _knows_ what they have, he knows what they are, he knows just how deep and sure his feelings are for Kurt, and he knows when Kurt looks at him that Kurt feels the exact same way... but he wants everyone to know it, too.

"Kurt doesn't see you that way," she says.

Blaine works his jaw a little bit as Stuart bends his head closer to Kurt, wonderful, talented, radiant Kurt who is smiling at the Dean. "I know. But this is forever for me, this is it, and I know Kurt isn't going anywhere... and a part of me wants to get down on one knee right now and stick it to Stuart by making it permanent." He bets Rachel would harmonize with him when he broke into song. The whole room might; there are some benefits to being at NYADA when it comes to impromptu serenades.

"Blaine! You can't propose to Kurt to prove something to someone else!" Rachel tells him, jabbing him in the shoulder with her finger. She doesn't hold back; it hurts.

“Hey! Ow.”

She raises her eyebrows and threatens him with her sharp finger again.

"I'm not going to," Blaine says, rubbing the sore spot on his arm. But he wants to, he really wants to, because there's nothing juvenile about them. This is _serious_. This is solid. It always has been - besides the part where they broke up - but with every month that they share their lives with each other it's that much more. With every day that he gets to bask in Kurt’s glow the more he wants to know he’ll never be without it.

"It's something you do when it's right for the two of you," she continues, as though he hadn’t spoken.

"It's right for me to prove to that guy that Kurt's taken," Blaine mutters.

Rachel smacks his arm. "Kurt only has eyes for you, and you know it. He doesn't need you to put a ring on it to show it off."

Blaine watches Kurt shake the grey-haired man's hand again and then turn back toward them. He smiles again as soon as he sees Blaine, some of the joy in his expression turning more personal, more targeted, more intimate, like he's happy about the night but even more happy to be sharing it with Blaine, like some of the glow radiating from him is because of Blaine. It makes Blaine want to melt into a puddle on the floor or pull him into his arms and nuzzle into Kurt’s neck for a while, just breathing him in and enjoying being close. Maybe they can do that later, too.

"I know," Blaine says with a soft, pleased sigh that has almost nothing to do with how Stuart’s eyes follow Kurt when he walks back across the room to _him_.

Kurt opens his mouth to say something as soon as he reaches them, but Rachel speaks first.

“I just told Blaine he can’t propose to you because Stuart looks like he’s two seconds away from putting a hand on your ass,” Rachel tells him. She flicks her hair behind her shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

With wide, shocked eyes, Kurt glances behind himself at Stuart, slides a protective hand down the back of his thigh, and then looks back to Rachel as Blaine silently tries to disappear through the floor. “Thank you,” Kurt says a little uncertainly.

“I’m just looking out for you,” she says, hooking her hand through his arm. She reaches out for Blaine’s as well, and he offers it to her, since he knows there’s no way to avoid it. The floor trick doesn’t seem to be working. “Both of you.”

As Rachel begins to tow them forward with her, Kurt meets Blaine’s eyes over her head and raises his eyebrows in question.

Blaine shrugs his apology. “I wasn’t going to.” _Probably_ , he adds silently, because Kurt is _exceptional_ , and seeing him up on that stage has only made Blaine more in awe of him. He’d happily pledge himself to him forever. He wants to. He wants to know Kurt will only ever be _his_. He wants everyone to know it.

Kurt raises his eyebrows, like he knows just how much he can believe in Blaine’s answer.

“Well, you _are_ amazing,” Blaine tells him, and he hands the flowers back to Kurt. “I might be a little overcome by it.”

Kurt smiles at him, his eyes going beautifully warm, and says, “I love you, too. But it would be more persuasive if you were _only_ thinking of me when you decide to propose.”

“I wasn’t _going_ to do it - “

“Oh, he totally was,” Rachel says, and Blaine’s head falls forward in despair. “But I stopped him. I know you expect something really romantic. I’ve got your back.”

“Thank you, Rachel,” Kurt says dryly, but his eyes linger on Blaine a little longer than Blaine would have expected, and the thoughtful expression in them keeps his feet from dragging on the floor. “I’m sure when we do get engaged he’ll consult with you to make sure it’ll be perfect.”

“I should hope so,” Rachel replies.

Blaine just grins at the floor. Kurt said _when_. It’s going to happen. They’re going to get engaged. Not today, not this month, but it’s going to happen. He can hold on to that. He can be okay with that, more than okay.

And maybe, he thinks, glancing back over his shoulder as they walk out into the hallway, he can invite Stuart to the wedding.

 

4\. _Summer_

“God, Kurt,” Blaine gasps out, his eyes still closed because he can’t figure out how to open them.

Kurt lets out a husky laugh as he falls to the bed beside Blaine, his face pressed against Blaine’s sweaty shoulder and his arm over Blaine’s bare, heaving chest. His panting breaths are hot against Blaine’s skin. “You liked that?” he says in a purr, because he was there the whole time and knows just how very much Blaine liked it. The whole building probably knows how much Blaine liked it.

“Kurt,” Blaine says as the room spins around him, since that’s the only word that makes any sense on his tongue. God, Kurt’s _tongue_. Kurt’s _everything_.

Kurt laughs again, giddier, and curls into him. “I love you.”

“Can we do that again?” Blaine asks.

“Yes,” Kurt says and drops a soft kiss against Blaine’s shoulder. It feels like liquid fire, sweet and searing, and his whole body throbs in remembered pleasure.

“You liked it, too, right?”

“Mmm,” Kurt agrees happily.

Blaine stretches a little on the sheets, still barely in control of his limbs and totally okay with that. The light from the lamp across the room is dim and golden through his closed lids. “Can we do that a _lot_?”

Kurt chuckles and kisses him again. His mouth lingers against Blaine’s skin. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to get bored...”

“Kurt, if you married me and we did that every night for the rest of our lives I wouldn’t get bored with that,” Blaine tells him with utter conviction. “We should do that. Let’s try.”

Blaine’s still spinning from the amazingness of his orgasm and doesn’t realize that Kurt has frozen for a moment until after he’s moving again. Blaine plays back his words and cringes internally, though it’s not like he doesn’t mean them. He _so_ means them, both the marrying and the sex, because _god_.

He blinks open his eyes to see Kurt giving him a saucy smile. There might be some worry in it, too, but Blaine’s not sure. There probably is. It was a big thing to slip out. But he’s also kind of distracted by Kurt’s hand trailing down his stomach. “I think we should hold off on any decisions until I show you what _else_ I overheard Kyle talking about backstage the other day.”

“I’d be willing to take my chances,” Blaine tells him, gently running his fingers through Kurt’s messy, sweat-damp hair.

“I know.” Kurt kisses him on the shoulder again, his eyes full of Blaine’s favorite kind of mischief. “But your thought process is compromised by the fact that you just came your brains out.”

His fingers slip lower on Blaine’s belly, and Blaine shivers with the promise in Kurt’s touch. His body valiantly tries to rally for another round, his blood surging south. “Not that compromised,” he says.

Kurt lifts up over him, lowering his mouth to Blaine’s collar bone. “Then I’ll have to do something about that.”

 

5\. _Winter_

Blaine stops by the nurses’ station after throwing away the remnants of his fifth cup of acidic hospital coffee in the trash can by the vending machines. He stands in the best spot at the corner of the counter, out of the way but obvious, and waits to be noticed by one of the busy members of the staff. He’s been here for _hours_ and is used to having to wait. In fact, he feels like he should start answering the phones or something for them because they’re so swamped; he doesn’t have anything better to do, not yet, and at least it would keep him occupied.

“Can I help you?” the nurse in front of him finally asks, barely looking up from her computer.

“Hi,” Blaine says with a polite smile. He hasn’t met her yet. “I’m Blaine Anderson. I’m just checking on whether Kurt Hummel has been moved out of Recovery to his own room yet. H-U-M-M-E-L.”

She clicks a few buttons on the keyboard, then types in a flurry. “Yes, he was moved about a half hour ago.”

Blaine’s blood runs cold. He’d promised Kurt he’d be there as soon as he was in his own room. He’d _promised_ , and it’s been a half hour. He doesn’t bother ask why no one told him, because he knows how many things they’re doing and that there’s no point in being rude; he just pushes down his frustration and summons up his manners. “Could you please tell me which room he’s in?”

She looks him up and down and says with an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, but right now he’s cleared to be seen by his immediate family only. You can come back during normal visiting hours. They start at four.”

That’s _hours_ away, half a day. Blaine has been here all night waiting. “I _am_ family,” he says, leaning his elbows on the counter. He tries not to sound as desperate as he feels. He needs to see Kurt, both for himself and for Kurt. He _promised_.

The nurse looks at the screen. “It doesn’t say here he’s married, and you certainly aren’t his father.”

“No, I – “ Blaine clears his throat and stands up taller, tries to look older and more mature. He knows he looks like a kid to her, and as much as he’s felt like one sitting scared and alone in the uncomfortable plastic waiting room chairs this is about an adult of a moment as he could imagine right now. He’s taking care of Kurt in the _hospital_. “I’m his boyfriend. We live together. I’m the one who brought him in to the ER last night. You could ask Jenny? She was here when he was admitted. She’s been keeping me updated on his status.”

“Jenny’s shift ended twenty minutes ago,” she says.

Shoving down his panic, he pulls Kurt’s phone out of his pocket and shows it to her. “I have his phone. His wallet, too. Do you want to see his ID?” He tries to dig Kurt’s wallet out of his jeans, the slick leather hard to grab with his damp hands.

“Mr. - ?”

“Anderson. Blaine Anderson,” Blaine tells her as patiently as he can. If he looks crazy, she’s never going to let him in. It doesn’t matter if he’s about to beg her. He needs to hold it together.

She smiles at him again. “I’m not suggesting that you’re stalking Mr. Hummel, only that the doctor’s orders are for family only right now. He’s just out of surgery for his ruptured appendix, and he needs to rest.”

Blaine nods. “I know,” he says, leaning his hands on the counter, Kurt’s phone still in his hand. His own phone buzzes with a text in his pocket, probably Burt, who has been waiting even more powerlessly than he is. Blaine takes a breath and redoubles his efforts to make the nurse understand. “But I promised him I’d see him, and his family is all in Ohio. His family that isn’t me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure he’s very important to you, but in the eyes of the hospital you aren’t actually considered – “

“There’s a paper!” Blaine blurts out. He should have thought of that immediately, only he hasn’t slept in what feels like days. “Kurt signed a paper. In the ER. It gave me temporary rights to make decisions for him if he wasn’t able to make his own.”

She checks her screen. “The computer doesn’t say - ”

“I promise you he did,” Blaine says.

She tips her head and types a little more. “Oh, here it is. They put it in incorrectly into his record.” She lowers her voice, muttering almost to herself as she reaches for the mouse and clicks a few times, “I don’t know what is wrong with the registration people, I really don’t, it’s not like it’s rocket science.”

“I’m sorry, that must be frustrating,” Blaine says politely, politely, so politely, because the situation is so delicate and so important. “But can I please see him now? Isn’t that paper enough?”

She looks up again and says kindly, “He’s in room 403. The elevators are over to your left.”

“Thank you,” Blaine says with feeling and walks down the hall as quickly as he can without flat-out running.

Kurt blinks his eyes open as Blaine pushes open the door to his private room; they’re vague but bright in his face, and he even manages a weak smile as Blaine approaches his bed. “Hi,” he says, his voice soft. He slides his hand across the white hospital sheet toward Blaine, and Blaine takes it gratefully, holding it with care for the IV anchored there.

“How are you feeling?” Blaine asks him, trying not to quake at the sight of Kurt with an oxygen tube at his nose and dressed in a generic, pale blue hospital gown. It feels so serious. It _is_ serious. He looks okay, though, so much better than he did before they got to the hospital, and any bandages and stitches are hidden beneath the fabric. He looks more or less like himself, apart from the gown and the way his hair is sticking up at odd angles, but Blaine’s at least used to seeing his hair like that in the mornings.

“Right now? Amazing.”

Blaine leans his hip against the side of the bed and takes his first deep breath in the better part of a day. “I guess the painkillers are working?”

“Oh, they’ve given me _all_ the good drugs,” Kurt tells him with a wide, wide grin. “This must be what being stoned feels like, only without fear of the police or my father.”

“But you don’t hurt anymore?”

“No.” Kurt shakes his head against the pillow. “I’m foggy and tired, but no more pain. I’m sure it’ll come again later. How are _you_? You look tired.”

“It’s been a long night, and there was an awful minute there they weren’t going to let me in to see you, but I’m okay now.” Blaine smiles at him and holds his hand more securely in both of his, feels the strength of his bones beneath the soft skin, and can’t stop his eyes from watering in gratitude and the remnants of terror.

“Me, too,” Kurt tells him.

Blaine just looks at him for a minute, and he’s so relieved to see Kurt not hunched over in pain from his ruptured appendix that the paleness of his skin and the intrusiveness of the tubes and cords don’t matter at all. Kurt’s _okay_. He is torn between laughing and crying with how good it feels and somehow manages to do both and neither at once.

“Stop staring at me. I must be a mess,” Kurt says, putting his free hand up to his hair. “This isn’t a look for you to remember.”

“You being okay is worth remembering.” Blaine leans in and kisses him on the forehead, breathing in the warm smell of him. “And your dad wants me to take a picture. Something about the family Christmas card.” He pretends to start to pull out his phone.

“No, don’t - “ Kurt starts, laughing, and then he grimaces and says, “Please don’t make me laugh.”

Blaine tries to soothe him with a hand on his arm. “All right. Sorry. But I do need to let your dad know you’re okay.”

Kurt nods, and he waves his hand in permission. His eyes droop shut, and he sighs out a slow breath. “Thank you.”

“I know you’re probably not up to texting, but I’ll give you the phone if you want to talk to him.”

“Maybe for a second,” Kurt says. “I don’t think I’m going to blurt out anything too embarrassing, even with the drugs. But the thank you was for taking care of me in general. For making me come when I didn’t want to. For being here with me.”

Blaine strokes his thumb over the side of Kurt’s hand and says, “Of course I’m here. I wouldn’t be anywhere else. The only question was how to get around the nurses if they didn’t let me in.”

“But I wanted you here,” Kurt says petulantly.

“I know,” Blaine tells him. “But you’re only cleared to see family right now.”

Kurt’s eyes flutter open, and he says in consternation, “You’re my family.”

Blaine smiles as his heart threatens to burst in his chest, because as much as it’s true it’s still wonderful to hear it. “That’s what I told them.”

“Good,” Kurt says with a nod.

Blaine’s smile wobbles, and he tries not to think about it too much as he reads the texts from Burt and Rachel that have piled up. Everything’s okay now.

The thing is, though, that as much as he would have pushed and pushed, they really could not have let him in. He might have had to wait until visiting hours. He wouldn’t have even been able to give Kurt his phone to be in contact with anyone. Without the health care proxy Kurt signed in the waiting room after getting Blaine to promise he’d call Burt if there were any decisions he didn’t feel up to making, Blaine might not even have been kept updated on Kurt’s status.

His hands start to shake at the unfairness and isolation of that reality, and he puts the phone in his pocket before autocorrect makes even more of a mess of his unsteady typing.

“What’s wrong?” Kurt asks, and Blaine realizes that he’s still holding Kurt’s hand and that Kurt can feel the tremors.

Blaine forces a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Blaine,” Kurt says. “ _I’m_ fine. Right?”

Blaine nods.

“Then tell me,” Kurt says.

Hooking the side chair with his foot, Blaine pulls it over and sits without letting go of Kurt. “If you hadn’t signed that proxy form, they might not have let me in. We’re not family. We’re not married. I’m just your boyfriend.”

“There’s no ‘just’ in that,” Kurt says softly. “Not to me.”

“I know,” Blaine says, stroking his hand and lifting it to press a kiss to Kurt’s cool fingers. “But it’s nothing in the eyes of the hospital. We aren’t _married_. They could have stopped me from getting to you.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Blaine shrugs and tightens his mouth to keep it from trembling, too, because it _is_ ridiculous, they don’t need that piece of paper to be committed to each other, and yet the state says that they do. “It’s the law. And I hate it.”

Kurt’s hand tightens on his. “Maybe we should look into getting a proxy drawn up for each other,” he says. “A more permanent one. Just in case. We live so far from our parents, and we’d always take care of each other.”

Blaine nods and works his jaw for a second, weighing whether he should even suggest the obvious, before he says, “Or we could get married.”

Kurt lets out a laugh and grimaces again. “Are you sure I’m the one who’s high?”

“Kurt, it would be the safest way. No one could argue with us then.” It all makes sense to Blaine. No one could stand between him and Kurt and keep him from being at his side, no matter what. No one could make him feel helpless, no one could force him to be polite when all he wants to do is yell to get some answers. He’d have the right. He’d have the law on his side.

“I’m not getting engaged in a hospital,” Kurt says with a fond roll of his eyes. “Bedridden isn’t a good look on me. Our engagement pictures will last forever.”

“Your gown is fine, and I can help you with your hair. I’ll go get flowers from the shop and bring in the nurses and sing to you,” Blaine tells him as the plan forms itself in his mind. “It’ll be romantic, I promise.”

Kurt just squeezes his hand again. “Blaine, I’m going to marry you out of love and for no other reason,” he says, and as wonderful as that sentiment is it doesn’t solve the current problem at all.

“But this is _important_ \- “

“So we’ll get those papers drawn up,” Kurt tells him. “Because I’m sure as hell not letting anybody keep me from you, either.”

Blaine can’t help but be disappointed, and worried, and frustrated, but he presses Kurt’s hand to his mouth again, kisses it, and says, “Okay.”

 

+1. _Spring_

Blaine takes a happy sip of his coffee as they turn off of the busy city sidewalk into the park. The brick path is clear of the snow and ice that’s been covering it for the past few months, and it’s nice to go for their regular Sunday morning walk without having to worry about slipping and falling. Soon there will be more shade, too, as the buds on the trees above make good on their promise of unfurling into bright green leaves.

He smiles to himself as they make their way to their favorite bench. This is one of his favorite traditions of theirs, not as good as date night but way more fun than the monthly scrubbing out of the refrigerator (it wasn’t his fault that that sandwich turned green and fuzzy that one time - it had been hidden behind the milk - and it had been a _year_ ago, seriously, he’s learned his lesson already), picking up breakfast and spending some time together without Rachel or homework looming on the horizon. It’s just them, the bench, and the pigeons.

There are always pigeons. No matter the season, whether the sun is blistering hot overhead or Blaine needs to dust snow off the bench before they sit, there are pigeons. He likes them. He like their individuality. He likes their determination to survive in an urban environment. He likes their shiny feathers.

“Here we are,” Kurt says, plucking off his glove as they take their seats. He pulls out a pastry from the brown paper bag he’s been carrying. “A currant scone for me - “ He hands over the bag to Blaine. “ - a bear claw for you, and two day-old bagels for your parasitic little friends.”

“Thank you.” Blaine ignores the bear claw and the comment and takes out one of the bagels. He starts to pull it into pieces.

“It’s a good thing you dress so well,” Kurt tells him over the rim of his cup of coffee. “Otherwise people might mistake you for one of those old ladies with babushkas who talk to the birds.”

“There’s nothing wrong with talking to them,” Blaine says, sprinkling bits of bagel onto the ground in front of him. “It gets them comfortable with me.”

A few pigeons flutter in, and Kurt laughs as one lands without hesitation practically next to Blaine’s polished Oxford. “They look comfortable already.”

“Because they know me.” Blaine pulls apart some more of the bagel.

It’s not that he recognizes them or anything, except for Miss Jane with her bright white feathers and single leg, but it only makes sense that he has repeat customers from week to week and that the ones who know him best would be the first to come near. He wonders if they’ll bring their chicks later in the year. It would be pretty cool if they did.

“You do seem to inspire fan clubs wherever you go.” Kurt pops a piece of scone into his mouth and watches Blaine with amusement as he chews.

Blaine grins at him and goes back to feeding the birds, who scrabble for the crumbs on the waking grass. He really loves seeing the seasons week to week here in this park, their little slice of New York. He loves the view of the crazy abstract jellyfish sculpture from this bench, and he loves seeing some of the same families over the months, watching dogs and kids grow.

Most of all, he loves Kurt beside him in an endless mental scrapbook of gorgeous outfits and cups of coffee, and he can see them doing this week after week for years to come, through seasons and milestones, maybe with a dog or a kid of their own. It’s a wonderful thought and warms him even more than his coffee does.

“I really love it here,” he sighs out, starting on the second bagel, tossing the pieces further away because Kurt’s eyes are narrowing at the squabbling birds.

“I do, too,” Kurt tells him. “I’m not as fond of the pigeons, but I _am_ fond of you.” His smile is warm and relaxed as he leans back against the iron supports of the bench, watching him.

“I love you, too,” Blaine says. He quickly dispenses with the rest of the bagel and pulls out the bear claw.

Miss Jane cocks her head at him.

“I’m sorry, but this is mine,” he explains to her, and if she doesn’t seem impressed at least she doesn’t fly for it in his hand.

“You’re even polite to the pigeons,” Kurt says with a laugh.

Blaine shrugs and grins at him around his first bite of buttery, sugary bear claw. It melts in his mouth and tastes even better when he chases it with a swallow of perfectly brewed coffee. “I love our Sunday walks,” he says with feeling.

“Sundays in the park with Blaine,” Kurt murmurs and clasps his hands around his cup. He falls quiet, and Blaine looks out over the park, still empty apart from the few remaining pigeons, and feels more content than he knows how to put into words. He wishes he could, though, because he wants Kurt to feel the same way, he wants Kurt to know just how happy he is with him, with this life they’re building, with _everything_.

He just feels _happy_. And lucky. And like he’s doing things right.

He could do this every week forever. He can see it, can see a future filled with scones and coffee and year after year like this one, lovely moments, perfect ones in this park with the love of his life.

Maybe, when they have the money and the time seems right, he’ll propose here, this spot in the city that feels like theirs, because they both know it’s going to happen at some point, and this bench would be as beautiful and special as anywhere Blaine knows. He could arrange for a few friends to stop by some Sunday, a miniature flash mob, or maybe something smaller, that would probably be better, just a bouquet of flowers and him on his knee on a perfect, sunny day with Kurt smiling down at him and saying - 

“Blaine?” Kurt says, interrupting Blaine’s reverie.

Blaine feels himself flush, because he’s letting his imagination run away with him again. He doesn’t have to plan it all out right now. It doesn’t have to be today. “Yes?” he says and takes another bite of his pastry.

“I want to marry you,” Kurt says, as simple as that.

Blaine swallows the half-chewed morsel and barely avoids choking on it in his surprise. “What?”

Kurt gives him a half-smile. “I want to marry to you. I’ve always wanted to marry you, really, since before we started dating. The first time.” He fiddles with the paper sleeve around his coffee cup and wrinkles his nose a little self-consciously. “But I’m ready to _be married_ to you. I want _this_. I want Sundays and walks in the park and pigeons you give odd names and feed asiago parmesan bagels to. I want the rest of our lives together.”

“Kurt...” Blaine trails off, because he doesn’t know what to say. Every inch of him is vibrating with shock and a deep, desperate excitement. He may also have forgotten how to make his voice work.

“I don’t want to deprive you of the big showy proposal you’ve been dreaming of for years,” Kurt continues. “I know that’s important to you. But I’m ready when you are. I just wanted you to know.” He watches Blaine’s face, and Blaine can see the nervousness combined with utter certainty in Kurt’s own.

“Kurt - “ Blaine puts down his cup and his pastry, not caring that the bear claw falls to the ground and is immediately pounced upon by Miss Jane and her friends.

He reaches for Kurt’s hands, clutching them tightly in his own. His smile bursts out of him, because he actually knows _exactly_ what to say. “I don’t need to propose to you, not if you don’t need that,” he says and continues before Kurt’s face can fall. “I don’t care about that. Not really. I don’t need to. The only thing I care about doing is saying yes.”

“And _are_ you saying yes?” Kurt asks him breathlessly, everything about him lighting up like a beacon, the brightest thing in Blaine’s world, always and forever.

“Yes,” Blaine says. It’s all so perfectly simple. It’s all so perfectly, perfectly right. He’s so happy. He’s so in love. He’s so sure. “Are you?”

Kurt nods, fast and fervent, already moving into his arms as he speaks. “ _Yes_.”

Blaine holds him as close as he can as they kiss and laugh and hug and kiss again, their eyes damp with tears of joy and excitement.

“I love you, Blaine Anderson,” Kurt whispers in his ear after a while. “Marry me.”

“I love you, Kurt Hummel,” Blaine murmurs back, unable to stop grinning. He feels like he could burst with love. He curls his fingers into the fabric of Kurt’s coat, because he’s his his _his_. “Marry _me_.”

And somehow, though it’s taken a while to get here, the time has never felt more right to say those words.

**Author's Note:**

> I am spoiler-free! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not spoil me for ANYTHING about the upcoming season.


End file.
